


Breakfast

by intoxicatedcinnamon (orphan_account)



Category: Free!
Genre: Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Grinding, Non-Penetrative Sex, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 15:16:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5461142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/intoxicatedcinnamon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A domestic Saturday morning leads to Haru taking Makoto the way they both crave</p><p>Fanart for my fics are waffling at @attemptingtofan on insta, go say hi!!! (we follow back hehe) <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my second attempt at smut hahaha  
> I guess you guys would have figured out that I have such a weakness for domestic fluff.  
> Comments and kudos will encourage me to keep writing, please leave them if you enjoyed this!!  
> 

-9:00 am-

The alarm rings with the unassuming  _meep meep_  melody that Makoto downloaded and insisted they use because it reminded him of baby birds. To Haru, it just sounds like electronic gone flat. But anything that makes Makoto smile deserves to stay and so it has every morning for the past half a year. He reaches over to Makoto's side of the bed by instinct, but instead of the comforting plane of his boyfriend's back, his fingers slide on cool, crumpled sheets.

_Makoto...?_

The smell of toasting bread wafts in, nudging his senses awake. Assured that his boyfriend hasn't disappeared, Haru lazily drapes his arms above his head, and lays there contentedly in the Saturday sunshine. His neck still feels tired from yesterday's training, and while the coach's new stretching routine has been more helpful than before, Haru still craves Makoto's strong fingers to soothe out all the aches. They had been too tired last night to do anything much--it was a quick dinner and shower and then straight to bed. Being university students in Tokyo is very different from calm, slow Iwatobi as they had realised through their drastically shortened sleep schedules.

"-ning Mako..." He ambles out and buries his face in his boyfriend's neck that still smells like their warmth and blankets, wrapping both arms round his waist, taking a step forward to close any remaining space between them. Makoto is in a t-shirt and pumpkin-orange and light green chequered boxers, with Haru's apron hanging obviously too much above his knees. Possessiveness flares through Haru at Makoto wearing his clothes--in his kitchen--cooking for him, belonging to him. He slowly slips his palms under the apron, bypassing his t shirt and onto Makoto's bare stomach, fingers contentedly splaying across his toned muscles and savouring the slight heat radiating from his skin. Makoto's abs tense deliciously from surprise at the sneaky touch. "Haru-chan?" Haru says nothing, just slips his palms higher to gently explore the protrusions of his boyfriend's ribs. Leaning his head on Makoto's sinewy shoulder that shifts as he stirs the contents of the pan on the stove, he presses a close mouthed kiss to graze the man's hairline and tightens his hold. "Why is it nine?" Teasingly, he states, more than asks, close to Makoto's ear

Makoto smiles shyly and lets go of the pan handle to cover Haru's clasped hands with one of his own. "Uh well... I wanted to let you sleep a little more and have time to start breakfast in between so I reset your alarm" he admits with a bashful laugh. "I'm making scrambled eggs, do you want any?" Haru rubs his eyes and clears his throat a few times. "Um...yeah, two, with—" "…with butter and salt, no pepper, mm" Makoto distractedly finishes his sentence, already looking through the cupboard above the stove for the salt. "Give me five minutes yeah? You can wash up first."

Haru looks younger, with his tousled fringe and blue eyes rounder with leftover sleep. Watching his boyfriend retreat to the bathroom, Makoto can't help but get slightly interested by how short Haru's boxers are (Stores usually stock clothes for people with thicker waists and shorter legs than Haru's so sizing hadn't been easy. But as Haru had pointedly evaluated,  _I'd rather show my thigh than have the thing drop and expose everything else, Makoto_ ) Makoto is glad now that Haru had bought the smaller pair that rests snugly on his waist because charcoal grey is really his colour, coupled with how Haru's pale, slim thighs extend gracefully and show the subtle line of his muscles. They cover just enough to look more like loose shorts than briefs, but don’t stop Makoto's imagination from wandering... down.

Breakfast on the small dining table: toast with eggs and grilled mackerel. The eggs are Makoto asserting himself at the breakfast table, while the mackerel stands as Haru’s unyielding contribution no matter the menu. Two cups of coffee—one blue and one green (held out half a year ago with a little embarrassed raising of the eyebrows by Haru for Makoto as a welcome home gift while furiously blushing and admitting that he used the green one because it’s almost the same colour as Makoto’s eyes and looking away as a hint) compete for space on their small wooden table. But it’s cozy, and it feels nice to have a space to call their own.

After the washing up is done and the laundry sorted and tossed into the machine, it’s time for their Saturday mid-morning nap. Lying back, Haru opens his legs and holds out his arms, soundlessly inviting Makoto to come to him. Makoto meets Haru's eyes with a smile and settles between his legs to rest his head on Haru's shoulder. He closes his eyes, sighing when Haru starts to stroke his back in circles, dragging his blunt nails over his waist. His fingers are gentle yet insistent, sliding over his side to stroke the tender skin under his arms, making him shiver. Makoto traces patterns on the smaller boy's chest, feeling his heartbeat and snuggling into his shirt, breathing in the mixed scent of their shared detergent and a very slight hint of chlorine.

"Y'know... just now in my apron... You should wear my apron.” Haru quietly muses to himself “More often." Makoto catches on and decides to run with it. Playfully dragging his fingers up Haru's throat to feel his Adam's apple, he chuckles and teases softly, "Ne Haru-chan, is it that apron or me in that apron that you like?" He feels Haru’s chest tensing as he takes a deep breath and the moving of his throat as he swallows. Makoto lifts his head to see his lover's dark eyes trained on his and his lips slightly parted.

"Haru?" 

"Makoto..." His chin is suddenly cupped and Haru's mouth is on his, sweet and wet and urging. His fingers are rubbing the jut of Makoto's hipbone that lies just under the waistband of his boxers and his palms are running up and down his neck and back like he's trying to feel as much of him as possible. Haru sucks and nibbles on his jaw, making Makoto close his eyes and gasp. Rolling on top of him, Haru's hand slips under his shirt, leading down to his hips. Makoto is kissed and kissed again, intoxicated with the warmth of the room and the sound of Haru's breathing.

Makoto feels warm all over, covered by Haru. He tastes as innocent as he had when Makoto first clumsily grabbed his shoulders and used his sincere inexperience to convince him of his feelings in their second year of high school. Makoto still remembers how he had kept his own eyes open to read Haru’s just in case and the thrilling rush when long lashes slowly slipped down to obscure deep blue eyes and submit to his touch, leaning into his chest and timidly reaching up to follow his lead. But Haru is leading naturally now, moving and moving with his legs rubbing against Makoto’s and his palms finding their way into Makoto’s boxers and stroking his thighs, sucking on Makoto’s tongue and pushing him under. Even like this, he’s focused and coordinated, the grace that he uses in the water floating in the sheets and Makoto feels torn between feeling unbelievably good given how little Haru has done and wondering where this came from.

Haru is aware—so aware of the quick rise and fall of Makoto’s chest as he tries to keep up with the pace Haru has set, meeting Haru’s mouth with his own and letting him decide what they do next. The thought of Makoto spread out for him, willing to make him feel good makes heat build low in his stomach and his hands are getting braver, more demanding. But even through Haru is panting, Makoto can still read the concerns flickering in his heated gaze.  _Is this okay? Are you in the mood? Can I have you?_  Surging back up, he captures the smaller boy's lips again, whining into his mouth. Haru's eyes widen at the explicit permission and his cock twitches in his clothes. “Mako, turn over” he groans out and reaches over for the lube in the drawer on his side on the bed that they keep for weekends like this. He presses kisses to Makoto’s shoulderblades and his sides, sucking hotly at the soft skin to make Makoto feel loved and wanted. "Mine," he growls as he licks a wet strip down his lover's spine. "Mine... mine, Makoto." 

***

“Tell me, Makoto… Does it feel good?” He thrusts two fingers into Makoto’s hole, expertly hitting his prostate. Makoto wails, high-pitched and uncontrolled, and his hips jerk forward by instinct, away from Haru but blue eyes never waver and Haru mercilessly holds him close, moving his fingers in and out, letting the lube squelch out and getting even more turned on by how helpless Makoto is. “G-good… Haru,  _good, ah_ , ah,  _Haru…_ ” Makoto is squirming now, his hands straying down to fondle his balls and roughly fist his cock. Unable to contain the pleasure, he arches his back and presses his face into the mattress, body weight landing on his forearms and unintentionally pushing his ass back. 

Haru gets up and kneels on the bed, then slides his boxers down and fits his cock into the crease of Makoto’s ass, rubbing it against his hole and catching at Makoto’s rim. The taller man is shuddering and whimpering, hips moving jerkily and torn between grinding into the mattress and pushing back against Haru's cock but Haru clasps an arm over his side and takes whatever he knows Makoto is willing to give. He slides his cock frantically between Makoto’s ass cheeks, hearing the dirty wet sounds of lube mixed with Haru’s precome and skin rubbing against skin. “ _Makoto…_ ” Haru’s voice deepens and breaks with his lover’s name bleeding into a moan as he sucks on his fingers and rubs them over Makoto’s stiff nipples, jerking tears out of him from the sensitivity. “So good for me, Mako…  _ah_  you’re so warm…Makoto…” The brown-haired boy lets out a choked sob at Haru’s sweet talk, his fist working quickly over his wet cock and his face red and splotchy. Haru loves how he’s so far gone to even try muffling his noises: half-moans of his name and harsh breathing, pitiful whimpers when Haru reaches over him to messily nuzzle his cheek with his lips and suck on his tongue. His normally warm green eyes are dazed with feeling, tears gathering at the sides. “More, Haru… please, more… rub it harder please _, Haru…!_ ” Makoto can’t stop himself from following Haru’s rhythm, feeling more precome drip down his entrance that is clenching and unclenching with arousal. Haru responds with a moan, “Your ass is so wet, Makoto… _oh_ you’re so _good_ …” His hand sweeps under Makoto’s back, rubbing the slit of his cock and gathering the moisture that has accumulated on the head to prevent it from dripping down onto the sheets again. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he sucks on them while rolling his hips into the soft yet muscular warmth. Makoto is slightly bitter, yet musky and heavy and the taste stays thick on Haru’s tongue as he places his hands on Makoto’s hips and pushes his asscheeks closer together.

“Am I good Haru-chan? Is it-is it good?” Makoto’s plaintive cry cuts through their pants and groans and Haru can’t even think straight, spilling out more words of praise and love than he ever would outside the bedroom. “So… _ah_ so good, Mako… I love you so much, you make me feel so good…” Makoto turns his head back to gaze at his lover. He looks utterly _wrecked_ , his saliva dripping slowly from the right side of his mouth and his sweaty hair pushed back, eyes big and vulnerable from seeing Haru use his body to get off. “C-call my name again Haru… Haru!” Haru can feel his rhythm getting sloppy from fatigue and arousal, hips snapping forward to drive his cock against Makoto’s twitching entrance that must be raw by now. “I…-Mako… Makoto… oh I love you Mako, _please… please!_ ” Haru brings his pelvis to connect with Makoto’s hard. One thrust, two, and he comes with a hoarse shout, his whole body tensing and gripping onto Makoto’s hips to let go in white streams onto his red, puffy hole. As he pants and opens his eyes again, he sees Makoto desperately touching himself, pitifully calling his name while his calf muscles spasm. “Haru… Haru, _ah Haru… I need_ ” Guilt twinges through him for just selfishly taking and using his lover and so he flips Makoto over to suckle on his cock that’s producing more fluid than he’s seen in a long time. Taking a deep breath, he plunges down to take Makoto in one long swallow, moaning around his cock and savouring the close smell and taste of him.

When Makoto comes, he’s too tired to moan and simply lets out a long, pained wail that seems to be wrenched from his throat in relief, releasing in spurts into Haru’s waiting mouth. Haru swallows and replaces his mouth with his hand, slowly bringing Makoto down from his high and make his body stop shaking. The two of them flop back on the bed and lay there panting for a while, Makoto’s eyes beginning to drift closed. Haru waits till he can feel his legs again to shake him awake. “Mako, hey Mako, we need to clean up.” Pleasantly sated, his voice is a cracked whisper and his arms still feel like they’re going to give way. “Mmhh…” Makoto stirs and shakes his head in denial “later Haru-chan… later...” falling back on the pillow again unfocused. Haru realises that Makoto might not even be aware of what he’s saying and fondness steals over his heart at his boyfriend who looks tall and imposing in any other circumstance but trusts Haru at his most vulnerable. His long eyelashes are fluttering against his flushed cheek and his pink lips are chapped from exhaustion. Swinging his legs over the other side of the bed, Haru heads over to the bathroom to wet a small towel to at least clean the drying come off Makoto’s stomach and between his legs.

Dropping a light kiss on his cheek as a small warning, Haru kneels on the floor before Makoto and begins methodically cleaning him while using as little force as possible. Reaching below his hips, Haru urges the brown-haired boy’s legs open. He doesn't miss Makoto flinching and the tiny whimper that escapes him when Haru tries to wipe away the stickiness. "Still sensitive huh" Haru mutters softly, trying to be gentler. Makoto's answer is a long, shaky exhale as he shifts his head on the pillow. Kissing his thighs and rubbing light circles on his waist, Haru persists until Makoto is acceptably clean, comforting him with murmurs of love. After he throws the towel into a small shallow pail filled with water and soap, he climbs back into bed beside Makoto. Makoto groans, turning back around with some effort to face him. Cupping his jaw with one hand, he presses their lips together again in a soft, chaste kiss. “So Haru-chan, what was that about?” he asks with a tired chuckle. Haru has slipped back into the man of few words he is and he blushes as his eyes train on a spot on Makoto’s chest. “Uh you were… I like you in my apron Makoto…” he trails off and blushes even brighter.

Tugging his fingers through silky black hair, Makoto hides a smile as his boyfriend takes a long look at him. “Love you too, Haru-chan,” he breathes the promise like a vow. Looking up to stare owlishly into Makoto’s eyes that have somewhat regained their vibrancy, Haru says matter-of-factly “We’re almost out of lube.”

It’s Makoto’s turn to blush.

 

 


End file.
